The Restless Hungarian is the saga of an extraordinary life set against the history of the rise of modernism, the Jewish Diaspora, and the Cold War. A Hungarian Jew whose inquiring spirit helped him to escape the Holocaust, Paul Weidlinger became one of the most creative structural engineers of the twentieth century. As a young architect, he broke ranks with the great modernists with his radical idea of the “Joy of Space.” As an engineer, he created the strength behind the beauty in mid-century modern skyscrapers, churches, museums, and he gave concrete form to the eccentric monumental sculptures of Pablo Picasso, Isamu Noguchi, and Jean Dubuffet. In his private life, he was a divided man, living behind a wall of denial as he lost his family to war, mental illness, and suicide. In telling his father’s story, the author sifts meaning from the inspiring and contradictory narratives of a life: a motherless child and a captain of industry, a clandestine communist who designed silos for the world’s deadliest weapons during the Cold War, a Jewish refugee who denied he was a Jew, a husband who was terrified of his wife’s madness, and a man whose personal saints were artists.

Le CD d'acc. comprend 182 mélodies et 33 variantes enregistrées par Bartók lors de ses collectes sur le terrain.

Since 1990, thousands of Hungarians have vacationed at summer camps devoted to Hungarian folk dance in the Transylvanian villages of neighboring Romania. This folk tourism and connected everyday practices of folk dance revival take place against the backdrop of an increasingly nationalist political environment in Hungary. In Movement of the People, Mary N. Taylor takes readers inside the folk revival movement known as dancehouse (táncház) that sustains myriad events where folk dance is central and championed by international enthusiasts and UNESCO. Contextualizing táncház in a deeper history of populism and nationalism, Taylor examines the movement's emergence in 1970s socialist institutions, its transformation through the postsocialist period, and its recent recognition by UNESCO as a best practice of heritage preservation. Approaching the populist and popular practices of folk revival as a form of national cultivation, Movement of the People interrogates the everyday practices, relationships, institutional contexts, and ideologies that contribute to the making of Hungary's future, as well as its past.

Lajos Vargyas's work summarizes the achievements of Hungarian research into the Hungarian material, discusses folk music on the basis of the musical aspects of the tunes (e.g. melody, tone set, rhythm, form, variation, types, styles), the point of view of its social role in tradition, and as an aesthetical phenomenon. Each chapter approaches the material from a different angle. The theoretical discussion sheds new light on the same tunes. This survey is a valuable contribution to the development of ethnomusicology research, abounding in musical examples both written and sound (433 pieces on the CD-ROM).

It is well known that Béla Bartók had an extraordinary ability to synthesize Western art music with the folk music of Eastern Europe. What this rich and beautifully written study makes clear is that, contrary to much prevailing thought about the great twentieth-century Hungarian composer, Bartók was also strongly influenced by the art-music traditions of his native country. Drawing from a wide array of material including contemporary reviews and little known Hungarian documents, David Schneider presents a new approach to Bartók that acknowledges the composer’s debt to a variety of Hungarian music traditions as well as to influential contemporaries such as Igor Stravinsky. Putting representative works from each decade beginning with Bartók’s graduation from the Music Academy in 1903 until his departure for the United States in 1940 under critical lens, Schneider reads the composer’s artistic output as both a continuation and a profound transformation of the very national tradition he repeatedly rejected in public. By clarifying why Bartók felt compelled to obscure his ties to the past and by illuminating what that past actually was, Schneider dispels myths about Bartók’s relationship to nineteenth-century traditions and at the same time provides a new perspective on the relationship between nationalism and modernism in early-twentieth century music.